


One Size Fits All

by collaborational



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: G/T, GET IT, Giant/Tiny, I'm so fucking funny, M/M, Mark will protect his smol at all costs, PocketSepticEye, Poor Jackaboy gets the short end of the stick, Short, Shrinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collaborational/pseuds/collaborational
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's here to visit L.A. once more and hang out with his friends! But unfortunately for him, Mark has a special surprise in mind...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack preps for a trip.

Sean “Jack” McLoughlin hadn’t seen his best friends in forever. 

The decision for a meetup had been well premeditated, but he still had butterflies in his stomach. Said butterflies were getting more and more excited as each day passed, until he thought he may actually throw up from enthusiasm. 

Finally, the fateful day came. His alarm beeped loudly, and the Irishman groaned. He sat up, raking his fingers through his bright green hair. He was already almost dressed, having slept in his clean clothing. If anything, Jack was efficient. He slipped on his shoes, dialed a taxi, and checked over his tidied apartment one last time. His recording equipment was right where it should be. No crumbs or dust anywhere in sight. 

Just to be safe, he booted up his computer. Yep, his YouTube video queue was still in place. None of his fans would be missing out on their double daily dose of JackSepticEye. 

With keys in one hand and his suitcase in the other, he gave a final nod to his home and stepped into the hall. 

The taxi arrived quickly, and Jack went over the plans, or lack thereof, in LA. Apparently his friends had ideas as to what to do, but they were keeping said plans secret from him. Totally unfair. From what he DID know, he’d be hanging at Mark, Matt, and Ryan’s place, with the ever-fluffy Chica and Lego to help keep him company. Bob and Wade would be there, too. It was all so exciting! 

Even though it hadn’t been long since he’d last been there, to celebrate his birthday no less, Jack was thrilled to be visiting Los Angeles again. His friends were all determined to give him a vacation even better than the last one he’d experienced. 

“Excuse me, sir, we’ve arrived.” 

“Ah.” Jack held back a swear. “Right, sorry!” 

He paid the cab driver and tugged his bag out of the backseat. He watched the car peel away, then looked up towards the airport towering over him. 

Oh yeah. Flying. He hated that part. 

\--- 

Delayed flights were a bitch. Crying children were even worse. But the thing that set Jack on edge the most was turbulence. And since Ireland was never short on stormy weather, there was a ton of it. 

His hands clutched at the armrests and his knees knocked together. “I hate flying, I hate flying, I hate flying,” he hissed under his breath. His gut churned with something that definitely wasn’t butterflies. 

It really couldn’t be over soon enough. 

\--- 

The first thing he did upon landing in New York was to check his Twitter feed. As always, it was jampacked with the messages of fans and colleagues. He snickered upon reading Mark’s message of complaint about picking him up, similar to the one that had been posted upon his last visit. He fired a snarky message in return. 

Soon, another one popped up on his feed. The two continued to sass back and forth, still thousands of miles away, until a beep caught his attention. 

Jack groaned as the people for the new flight began to flood in. Right, it wasn’t over yet. 

“Fabulous,” the YouTuber muttered. 

\--- 

Los Angeles was certainly warm. Too warm. And humid, too. Ew. 

He was a little worn from the jet lag, but Jack instantly perked up when he spotted a familiar frizz of scarlet hair among the waiting crowd. 

Mark Fischbach’s hands were placed on his hips as he scanned the people around him. Some people were whispering and pointing, possibly debating an autograph or photos. 

As soon as their eyes locked, Jack felt a warmth spread throughout his entire body. He smiled widely, and with his bag dragging behind him, made a beeline for Mark. 

“Good to see you, goober!” Mark said cheerily, a grin on his face that contested Jack’s own. 

“Nice ta see yeh too, smelly,” he shot back playfully. The slightly taller man opened his arms, and wrapped Jack in a tight hug. 

“You ready to go?” 

“Definitely.” Jack pulled back. “So, are yeh gonna bother tellin’ me about plans?” 

“Trust me.” Mark gave him a knowing smirk. “You’ve got a big week ahead of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit here i go again hold onto your hats folks because it's about to get _dirty_ up in this bitch


	2. Settlement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That stupid surprise is still being dangled over his head.

“Welcome ho-CHICA NO!” 

Jack only caught a glimpse of the house before the shaggy white dog bounded on him, licking his face all over. He fell down onto his rear, cackling as Chica familiarized herself with the Irishman. 

“G-Good ta see yeh too,” he managed to gasp between chuckles. After another moment of merciless slobbery kisses, Mark lifted the dog off him. 

“You okay there?” 

“I’m just feelin’ upset that yeh didn’t greet me like that, Mark. Chica loves me more than yeh do!” 

“What!” he cried in mock outrage. “Chica! How dare you betray me like that! I thought you loved ME!” 

He tried to plant a kiss on her nose, but she pulled away, giving off a face that screamed ‘discomfort’. Jack lapsed into giggles once more as Mark tried and failed to smooch his precious pooch. 

“Betrayal most foul!” Mark screeched to the heavens. Chica wriggled, and he set her down back in the house, finally bursting into laughter alongside the Irishman. 

“Alright, alright,” Jack finally wheezed. “Let’s at least get inside before we die an’ leave yer roommates ta discover our corpses.” 

“But wouldn’t it be romantic?” Mark spun in a sloppy rendition of a pirouette. “Mark and Jack, together in death, together forever…” 

Jack shoved him. 

“Ow, rude!” 

Matt and Ryan were settled on the couch, and perked up when the two shorter men finally entered the house. 

“There you are. Took you forever to get inside the house,” Ryan teased. 

“Did you get lost on your way from the car, Mark?” 

“Shut up.” Mark laughed, and the deep rumble, as always, sent chills down Jack’s back. 

“Anyways, did Bob and Wade get back to us about those plans?” 

“Yeah, they actually called while you were out,” Matt explained, standing up. “Yeah, they’re both totally ready. They’re dropping off the stuff later tonight.” 

“Great.” 

Jack was getting frustrated. “Alright, yeh’ve held this surprise over my head fer a fockin’ month already! Can yeh just tell me?” 

“Nope.” Mark’s devilish grin stretched across his entire face. “You’re gonna have to wait til tonight, Jackaboy.” 

“Damn it!” He stomped his feet, pretending to give into a temper tantrum. 

“Aww, come on, Jack, you know you love me. You’re gonna love the surprise even more.~” 

The flirty tone actually brought a blush to his face. Matt and Ryan were snickering. Jack looked up, blinking. 

“...wot?” 

“You heard me.” Mark turned to his roommates. “Anyways! How about we treat our new guest to some lunch?” 

“Hear hear,” they chorused, leaving Jack flustered and confused. 

“Wait- but yeh- MARK!” 

“Hurry up, slowpoke!” They were already out the door. “Where do you want to eat?” 

Shaking his head, he hurried after the other men. They were trying to freak him out. He just knew it. 

\--- 

They’d chosen a nice, secluded Jack In The Box to have lunch in, and Jack happily chowed down on his burger, fries, and cookie. 

“High quality food,” he told them. “Yeh really didn’t have ta go ta so much trouble fer this. I mean, yeh even went out’f yer way ta find a restaurant named after me!” 

“Our treat,” Ryan said, smirking. “Don’t feel bad about it, just eat.” 

Mark raised his eyebrows. “Yep, you’re gonna need your energy for tomorrow.” 

Jack’s eyes widened, and he nearly choked on his soda. “T-tomorrow?” he spluttered, Diet Coke dribbling down his chin and into his whiskers. “W-wot’s tomorrow?!” 

“Do you not understand the meaning of the word surprise, Jack?” Mark asked him, dropping his voice about half an octave. “You’ll find out when the time comes.” 

He resisted the urge to groan. “I hate yeh. All three’f yeh.” 

“Sure, Jack. Sure.” 

\--- 

A knock at the door jolted Jack, and he froze, dropping his controller. Directly onto the knee of Mark, who was sitting next to him. 

“OW!” 

“Sorry!” 

The slightly taller man rubbed his knee, complaining lightheartedly, before standing. “I’ll bet that’s Bob and Wade with the stuff.” He shot Jack a look that made him tremble. 

_What the hell is going on here?!_ he thought desperately. _What is he up to?_

Mark peeled open the door, and sure enough, his two friends were towering over him with a large bag. 

“Special delivery,” Bob trilled. “Took us forever to find this shit on the internet, and it’s expensive as HELL. You owe us.” 

“I don’t owe you anything,” Mark told them huffily. “If anything, you guys owe me!” 

Bob rolled his eyes. “Since when have you ever done anything that would actually constitute us owing you something, Markiplier?” 

“Lots of things!” he shot back, folding his arms. “There was that, uh. That time. With the thing.” 

“Oh, yes,” Wade snarked, “that time with the thing. How could I forget. We’ll call it even then.” 

“Shut up, Wade!” 

“So, can we come in?” Wade continued, ignoring Mark’s comment. “Or uh, are you a little… busy at the moment?” 

Jack screeched from his vantage point on the couch, which made all three of them chuckle. 

“You still haven’t told him?” Bob laughed. “Oh, man, he’s pissed isn’t he?” 

“OH MY GOD I’M GONNA KILL ALL OF YOU!” He thrashed around in rage, and flopped over sideways. “TELL MEEEEEE!!!” 

“Why don’t you sleep on it, Jack?” Mark called. “Remember, not til tomorrow!” His voice lilted mockingly, and it drove the Irishman into an even worse craze than before. 

“YER KILLIN’ ME, MARK! TELL ME ALREADY!” 

“Mmmmno.” 

“FOCK YEH!” 

Mark raised an eyebrow. “If you insist, Jackaboy.” 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHOHOHO WE ARE GETTING CLOSE FOLKS THAT SURPRISE IS ALMOST UPON USSSSSS


	3. Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The surprise arrives.

It was a miracle that Jack had actually gotten any sleep last night. 

The suspense was KILLING him. Tight knots were forming in his stomach. He stared at the unfamiliar ceiling as he laid on the couch, resisting the urge to toss and turn. That would probably end with him on the floor. Facedown. 

He ruffled his hair, trying his best to think. Everybody had been acting suspicious all damn day! It seemed like all of his friends were in on it. What did they know about it? 

And Mark was definitely the ringleader. He was the one that had kept shooting him weird looks and teasing him about the surprise. 

He wasn’t actually going to… no. He wouldn’t. Mark Fischbach had repeatedly stated that, although he was fine with people being on all parts of the sexuality spectrum, he was as straight as an arrow and that was that. 

Still… Jack, tired and frustrated and desperate as he was, couldn’t help but wonder. 

It was something to sleep on, he decided with finality, and shut his eyes. 

\--- 

Jack didn’t remember his dreams. That was probably for the better. The next thing he knew, someone was dragging him to his feet. 

He groaned and blinked hard. “M-Mark?” 

“Hey.” An impish grin was on his friend’s face. “Ready for your surprise, Jack?” 

All of a sudden, he was wide awake. The surprise. He’d made it. Holy shit, he’d made it. 

“Hell yeah!” the Irishman whisper-yelled, breaking into a smile of his own. “Come on!” 

“Ah ah ah.” The American wagged his finger. “Say please.” 

“Wot!” His eyes narrowed in indignation. “Come on, Mark! Fine, PLEASE! Show me th’ surprise PLEASE.” 

“Begging. I like that.” His lowered voice sent a tremor through Jack’s entire body, and his face was definitely heating up. He recalled the thoughts from last night. No. Stop that right now, he’s your best friend he’s not actually going to- 

His train of thought was cut off by Mark all but yanking him down the hallway. Once he’d deposited Jack at his bedroom door, the taller man turned to face him. 

“Alriiiight. Shut your eyes. No peeking.” 

Despite his instincts telling him not to, Jack complied. He was aware that he was shaking. And sweating. Gross. 

“Hey, hands over your eyes.” 

“Yeh don’t trust me, Markimoo? That hurts my feelings.” 

“Just don’t want the surprise to be ruined, now do I?” 

He did his best to swat down the increasingly dirty scenarios his stupid mind was sculpting for him. Damn you, Fischbach. 

“Alright, step forward, but keep those eyes shut.” 

The Irishman put out one hand to ensure he didn’t bump into anything. The other was still clamped tightly over his eyes. 

His heart was racing at a million miles an hour. His legs were shaking. The darkness was impenetrable. 

Mark’s voice floated out of the abyss. 

“Ready?” 

He swallowed. 

“Y-yeah.” 

“Alright then, on the count of three.” 

Every single muscle seemed to clench at once. 

“One…” 

_Oh my God what is he going to do_

“Two…” 

_I can’t take it anymore I can’t TAKE IT-_

A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Jack let out a very unmanly shriek. His eyes shot open, and he finally got a full view of his surprise. 

Mark, holding a fancy light up pistol that was obviously a prop, was standing in front of him, grinning ear to ear. 

Jack stared. 

“...YOU BITCH!” he finally screamed, and socked Mark in the shoulder. 

He broke down into peals of laughter, clutching the toy to his chest. “Oh. Oh my- oh my God- I got you- SO bad- you should have- should have seen the- the look on your FACE!” He gasped for air. 

“All that fer THIS! Some stupid PRANK!” His face was bright red and he knew it. Jack huffed. “Come on, Mark, yeh were KILLIN’ me!” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t drop dead,” Mark wheezed. “But uh. No.” 

“...no?” Anger forgotten, Jack cocked his head curiously. “Then…” 

“Do you know what this is for?” Mark asked, spinning the gun in his hand. “It’s part of a set of props that Bob and Wade managed to get for our next skit.” 

“A-and?” Jack’s heart was beating again. 

“And you, my friend, are gonna be in it!” Mark cheered. 

“Seriously!?” He was beaming, his cheeks hurt from smiling so impossibly wide, bubbles of happiness were fluttering and popping inside of his chest. “I-I get ta be in a SKIT with yeh guys?!” 

“Yeah!” Mark’s smile matched his own. “How do you feel about slinging one of these around in a SPACE WAR?” He pointed the toy pistol at Jack, who cringed in mock terror. 

“Aah! Don’t shoot me, Mister Iplier!” 

“Or what?” Mark smirked. “You can’t do a thing about it, SepticEye!” He pulled the trigger. 

But instead of a little foam dart or a harmless little laser beam, the gun kicked back and delivered a blinding white ray headed straight for Jack’s chest. 

There was a searing hot pain and he was thrown back. 

Everything hurt. He slumped against something hard. 

“Jack?! JACK!” Mark’s voice was muffled and far away. 

The room spun, and Jack shut his eyes. _Oh shit,_ was his only thought as he fell into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP. SEE YOU TOMORROW GOOD NIGHT.


	4. Mishap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has to deal with an aftermath.

It had only been a few moments. 

Right? 

Jack opened his eyes. 

He was still on wooden floor. A sign that he was still in Mark’s house. That was good. 

Jack looked behind him. Yikes, that was a sizable indent in the wall. That would definitely cost a lot of money to fix. 

Was he… under something? There was something thick over his head. Had he tumbled under Mark’s bed or something? 

The ringing in his ears was starting to wane, and he could hear someone’s voice now. 

“O-Oh my God, I killed him, I fucking killed him, Jack, SEAN!” 

Mark? 

“Sean, I’m so sorry!” A loud clatter met his ears. The Irishman winced, and tried to stand. Oh God, his limbs hurt like HELL. 

He opened his mouth to speak. “M-Mark!” he coughed out. 

“What the fuck did I do? What have I DONE?” 

Jack tried again. “MARK!” 

The sniffling paused. “...w-wh…?” 

“Mark, I’m fine!” 

“S-Sean? Jack?” Mark’s voice rang out. “Is that you? I can barely hear you!” 

“Y-yeah! Where are yeh?” 

“Where are YOU is a better question!” There was the distinctive thud of footsteps. “I-I can’t even see you, I thought you disintegrated!” 

“Wot did yeh even hit me with?!” 

“Something from the internet, apparently!” 

“Did yeh even do research?!” 

A pause. 

“M-Maybe!” 

Jack rolled his eyes. 

“Keep talking. And check yourself over, are you missing anything?” 

Good point. Jack patted himself down. Head, shoulders, knees and toes, five fingers on each hand and a smooth ass right where it should be. His clothes appeared unharmed, save for a scorch mark in the middle of his shirt. Damn. 

“I’m in one piece!” 

“That’s a start. Can you move?” 

“Yeah.” 

“...do you think you like. Turned into a ghost?” 

Jack pinched himself. It hurt. 

“Uh, no.” 

“Then what…” 

The Irishman decided to take a risk, and he trudged out into the unknown. 

OH GOD THE BRIGHTNESS. He winced as light burned splotchy images into his field of vision. He blinked them away, tearing up just a bit, and squinted. 

Then his eyes widened. 

At first, all that came out was a strangled squeak. Then he opened his mouth and screamed. 

Mark definitely heard. He looked down. 

Way down. 

There was a crash as the American stumbled back and fell right on his ass. The tremors hurled Jack a good inch into the air, and then he flattened against the floor. 

“JACK! Holy shit! You’re- you’re-!” 

Jack peeled himself off the floorboards, more than a little dazed. 

“I’m not dreaming, am I? You really are like. Six inches tall?” 

Mark was now lying on his belly to frantically inspect the unfortunate Irishman. “I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“Just knocked th’ wind out’f me,” he managed to wheeze out. 

“...oh my God, I just realized.” 

“Wot?” Jack looked up, only to spot a growing grin on Mark’s face. “Oh no. Don’t yeh dare.” 

“Y-you’re. You’re a teensy little leprechaun.” 

“Not fer long!” he snapped irritably. “Grab that stupid gun an’ read th’ instructions so yeh can fix me!” 

“Alright, okay okay.” Mark sat up again and adjusted his glasses. “I dropped it right over…” 

His voice trailed away. 

Jack’s stomach jolted. That wasn’t good. Swallowing his fear, he peered around Mark, afraid of what he might see. 

The gun was in pieces. 

“...oh no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno guys, some duct tape and it'll be fine. Right?
> 
> ...right?


	5. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Mark have a small problem.

“Okay, let’s calm down here!” 

“I am calm!” 

“No you’re not!” 

“Well, n-neither are you!” 

“Bullshit, I-I’m totally calm.” 

“Yer palms are sweatin’.” 

“No they aren’t!” 

“They’re fockin’ drippin’, Mark. I can see it from here.” 

Mark wiped his hands on his shirt. “Alright, fine. So I’m freaking out. We have to do something, Jack, we have to think of something.” 

Jack nervously looked way, way up at his friend. “Uh… d’yeh mind pickin’ me up at th’ least? It hurts my neck ta look up like this, an’ I don’t want someone ta squish me…” 

“Oh. Oh, of-of course.” He lowered one hand down for Jack to clamber into, and the teensy Irishman hoisted himself up. Skin and muscle and bone flexed underneath him. Oh God, that was weird. 

Mark stood up too quickly, eliciting a yelp from his friend. Jack toppled sideways, clutching the fingers curled around him for dear life. 

“Oh Jaysus this wos a bad idea too high TOO HIGH TOO HIGH!” 

“I’m not going to drop you! Stop squirming!” 

“NO!” he shrieked defiantly. 

Mark cupped the other hand around Jack, leaving him almost no light except that which slipped through in between the American’s fingertips. “I won’t drop you. I promise. Calm down.” 

His heart rate finally began to drop, and Jack, still panting from the scare, pushed himself into a sitting position. 

“...how are we gonna fix this, Mark?” 

There was a jerking motion that shook him to the core as Mark shrugged. “Well… we could probably order another of whatever we got. It took maybe three days to ship.” 

Jack groaned. “That’s three days’f bein’ tiny.” 

“Look at it this way, we’ll have you back to normal before the end of the visit!” 

“I suppose…” 

Mark lifted the hand covering his friend, allowing Jack to look up at him. 

“So… wot do we even do in th’ meantime?” 

Mark’s face scrunched up as he thought. “We’d have to tell Matt and Ryan so they don’t freak out.” 

“They’re still gonna freak out, man.” 

“I know, just…” His sigh almost knocked Jack over. Oh Lord, he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet. The Irishman choked. “They won’t freak out as much if we explain first.” 

“O-Okay… obviously, we can’t tell th’ fans…” 

Mark let out a chuckle. “Oh man, can you imagine? That would be terrifying. They’d never get over it.” 

“No kiddin’. So, that also leaves out goin’ outside. Like, ever.” 

“Nope. You’re staying right here.” 

There was a bark from the other side of the door. Both men froze. 

“...Chica and Lego would try to eat you.” 

“Keep me away from th’ dogs. Got it.” 

More barking and scratching. If they kept that up, Matt and Ryan would be woken. 

Mark curled his hand around Jack, who let out a squawk. Then he wrenched open the bedroom door. 

Chica, in all her fluffy glory, bounded into the room and began to dash in circles around Mark’s feet. After a moment, she paused and looked up at her master, confused. 

“Sorry, Chica-Pica, I can’t pet you. Need to put Jackaboy somewhere safe first…” 

A whine, then a yap. Jack covered his ears. 

“Hey, don’t bark at me, sweetheart. You’ll get pets. I promise. Just wait. Okay?” 

The dog looked upset, but watched forlornly as Mark carefully carried Jack out of the room, doing his best to keep from jostling the tiny Irishman. 

“You doing okay?” 

“I’m fine, Markimoo.” He gave his friend a miniature thumbs-up. 

“Good…” He frowned. 

“Say, how are you even going to eat? Or shower? Or clean your clothes?” 

“I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come ta it.” 

“We’re coming to it soon. You stink.” 

“Excuse me?” He exclaimed. “I’m nowhere near as bad as yer breath!” 

“What? Oh my God, did I…?” Mark broke out into laughter, shaking Jack around as his eyes squeezed shut with delight. 

“Mark, don’t kill me!” he yelped, going head over heels. 

“Sorry!” 

“No yer not!” 

“You’re right. I’m not.” He laughed even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUP IT'S ME AGAIN WELCOME BACK TO POCKETSEPTICEYE HELL


End file.
